Undocumented

     Where are all your pictures?
     Pictures of what?
     Like a family album. Pictures of you growing up. Places you've been. That sort of thing.
     Evidence that I was here. Proof that my stories aren't cooked up to impress you.
     No. Something you can look at to help you remember all the wonderful times in your life. It isn't like that at all.
     I just don't get this fascination with incessant documentation of your entire life.
     I'm not obsessed. It's normal. It's what people do.
     That's what I mean. It's a human obsession. You don't even need to put the idea in someone's head for them. Give them a camera, and once they figure out what it is, blammo, family picture time.
     Well of course! Who doesn't want to freeze certain moments forever?
     But don't you see how unhealthy that is? You've got such a stranglehold on the past you barely have any time or energy to think about your future.
     Oh come on. That's ridiculous. They're just memories.
     That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you!
     But that doesn't mean they aren't important! You're memories are who you are. I wouldn't be who I am today without all of this.
     Sure, but you don't need all these pictures to tell you that.
     It's just nice, okay? And I think it's creepy that the only photos I've ever seen of you are by Olan Mills.